


Come Home With Me

by beelzebertha



Category: Greek Mythology, Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Inspired by Hadestown, Inspired by Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 09:17:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19989730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beelzebertha/pseuds/beelzebertha
Summary: Hermes stood off to the side and watched the first conversation between Eurydice and Orpheus and remembered a different meeting many millennia ago.





	Come Home With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Come Home With Me is my absolute favourite of the Orpheus and Eurydice drop, it's so sweet and Hermes is the best wingman. The opening makes me howl with laughter and I couldn't help but see Hades being as hopeless as Orpheus' when meeting Persephone for the first time, especially as both Eurydice and Persephone are the queens of sass, and imagined it like history kind of repeating itself.  
> I hope you enjoy.

Hermes stood off to the side and watched the first conversation between Eurydice and Orpheus and remembered a different meeting many millennia ago.

He’d only been running the train then because Charon wanted a month off to _‘travel’_ – more like he wanted a break from Hades’ increasing temper tantrums and general moodiness, but he wasn’t exactly going to say that to the God of the Dead. They had bets on why their King’s disposition had soured so quickly so recently, whether he was going crazy from being alone for so long or crazy from being cooped up down there for so long. Hecate had even bet on both, the mad loo

To be fair, Hermes was sick of Hades’ attitude after exactly six days, thirteen hours, twenty-seven minutes and forty-two seconds when Hades threw a rock at him for merely breathing. That’s also when Hermes forced him up to the surface despite the older god’s protests that he had too much work to do and not enough time to do it in. Like they weren’t immortal and didn’t have eternity. Hermes had simply pushed him into the train carriage and driven off before the other god could so much as blink. An afternoon upstairs in the sunshine would do them both some good and hopefully they wouldn’t end up murdering each other. They’d been walking along the stream, not really talking about anything when Hades had frozen mid-step. Hermes looked at him in confusion for a moment before he followed his gaze to the girl dancing in the garden a few yards away. And if her mother ever asked, he didn’t know why he’d chosen that particular route to walk, he hadn’t really thought about it, just set off when Hades had finally gotten out of the carriage, sulking and complaining all the way. Because Hades, despite being the oldest god, was acting like a huge child and Hermes was too busy for babysitting. If she did ask though, he’d blame the fates. As always.

Hades stood there, eyes not moving from the girl dancing around the garden, the sunlight kissing her with romantic affection (and didn’t Hermes know _all_ about Apollo’s attempts to court the girl, her mother had been _pissed_ at that, family dinner had been interesting – Hades hadn’t attended or it would have been ever more entertaining judging from his reaction to her). She clearly knew she was being watched because her dance changed from being light and sweet to outright filth as she shook her hips and flicked her hair. Hermes knew this show wasn’t for him, he’d met her many times and she’d never given indication of anything other than friendship between them and truly he wasn’t interested in more with her. That made this all the more interesting, since it was clearly all for Hades and it clearly seemed to be working from the blush on his cheeks and his slightly dropped jaw. Hermes would have teased him if Hades had been any other god. He let the show and the spectating go on for fifteen minutes before he spoke, only slightly pleased when Hades jumped guiltily, like he’d been caught in some horrendous crime and not whatever weird courtship ritual this was.

“You wanna go talk to her?” He raised an eyebrow over at the older god who still refused to move his eyes from her. A look on his face that Hermes had never seen before but one he couldn’t look at for too long without feeling like he was intruding due to the rawness and honesty of it. If he had to say though, it was like Cupid himself had stabbed the other god in the heart with one of his arrows, and that lazy bastard always sent Eros out to do his dirty work.

Hades was silent for a long while, eyes transfixed on the girl, on the way her curls danced on the breeze, the way the plants leaned towards her as if desperate to touch her, the dirt stains and rips in her bright green dress that hugged her curves just so. He looked like a king in his finely cut suits, the metal buttons and cufflinks gleaming in the sun yet he was enchanted by a barefooted country girl with muddy knees and leaves in her hair. The fates could be damn funny when they wanted to be. Hermes thought Hades might have had a heart attack or a stroke or just plain and simple died on the spot or something before he replied, breathless, “Yes.”

“Go on.” And that seemed to break Hades out of his trance as he almost fell forward eyes never leaving her lithe form. Hermes thought it kind of sad, like Hades felt he needed someone’s permission to at least talk to the girl. He guessed that showed what being alone for too long did to you. Or that his uncle was way more considerate than his siblings, Lord know Zeus did as he wanted when he wanted much to Hera’s utter fury despite it being clear he was never going to learn to keep it under his toga. “Hades?”

“Yes?” he looked back at Hermes, finally breaking his gaze from the girl. He noticed when she looked over at him clearly annoyed, he’d stolen the older god’s attention no matter how briefly. Interesting. Hades himself suddenly looked nervous and Hermes realised he had never actually seen him romantically with anyone, man or woman, god or human or nymph. He wondered why that was.

“Don’t come on too strong.” Hades gave a jerky nodded and resumed on his path, his feet stumbling as his eyes found her dancing form again, falling back under her spell. She laughed and all the flowers within a two-mile radius bloomed.

Hermes followed slowly and tried to pretend he wasn’t watching or listening to the two of them, trying to give them privacy and also wishing for ignorance when her mother inevitably went ballistic at him for letting this happen. He briefly wondered where her mother was because they’d have been chased off with sticks by now if she’d been around. She hadn’t approved of Apollo, she wasn’t going to approve of the King of the Underworld. She’d never liked Hades anyway.

He was broken out of his thoughts when he heard Hades’ deep, gruff voice say: “Come home with me.”

And Hermes’ hand met his forehead in the world’s first facepalm. So much for not coming on too strong.

“And who are you?” The girl laughed, her voice light and sweet and warm.

Hermes looked over at the two of them, almost perfect opposites, her tanned and messy and natural next to his paleness, immaculate and formal. Life and Death. They leaned into each other, as if in their own world, just the two of them, as if they were each other’s worlds.

“The man who’s going to marry you.” He held out his large hand. “Hades.”

She placed her hand on his, she spoke her name when he brought it to his lips, “Persephone.“

And Hermes swore he heard music around them.


End file.
